The dust of the last clash had barely settled when Kevlar and the Maw materialized in the open field—between the battered Royal One and the broken Vatican lines. The charging cannon pulsed in the background, swelling with power so volatile it made even the titan’s hide prickle.

  They exchanged a wordless acknowledgment.

  That thing must be destroyed.

  Even the Maw sensed it—a blast strong enough to erase him if it struck true.

  The surviving Vatican soldiers took one look at Kevlar’s landing and the Maw’s titanic silhouette looming behind him… and ran. Shields dropped. Spears clattered. Formations shattered into terrified chaos.

  Behind Kevlar, Draculius, Lilith, and the Royal One held their defensive perimeter—close enough to intercept threats, but far enough to avoid the Maw’s world-shaking footsteps.

  “Maintain distance!” Lilith ordered sharply. “Do not get too close to them unless they call for it. Their power will not distinguish friend from foe.”

  Her units obeyed, adjusting their line.

  The Vatican ranks, already collapsing, were thrown further into disorder as Saint Fariel watched his troops flee with cold disappointment. For him, courage was now irrelevant.

  “Guardians,” he said to the three hybrid protectors at his side, “hold them off. As long as you can.”

  “Yes, Your Holiness,” they bowed—though doubt flickered in their eyes as they watched priests shrivel to husks, drained dry by the cannon they were feeding. Still, their loyalty held. They vanished into the fray.

  Fariel turned to Serena.

  “My dear. Only you can stall that titan. Go. The relic will end this once it reaches full charge. Nothing shall withstand it cleansing.”

  Serena showed no emotion—only the stillness of a puppet fulfilling a command. Her four white wings unfurled, radiant even in the battlefield gloom. She ascended, angling toward the Maw.

  The titan’s nostrils flared.

  “Shadowborn, their champion approaches,” the Maw rumbled. “The three of them are not fully human… I can smell similar scent of your friends in them.”

  Kevlar nodded slightly. “They’re hybrids. I faced them—and their commander. They failed then. They’ll fail now.”

  The Maw’s gaze shifted to Serena.

  “Heh. And that one is mine? She resembles the angels of my age… but also tainted like the hybrids. Yet her essence… it is pure. She reminds me of someone.”

  Kevlar’s eyes sharpened. “You can subdue her—but don’t kill her.”

  The titan blinked. “Why?”

  “She’s Draculius’s daughter. A puppet or not… she deserves better than to die as one.”

  “Pitiful,” the Maw mused. “Can she be freed?”

  Kevlar’s answer was low, dangerous. “Maybe. If the manipulator falls.”

  His gaze slid toward Fariel—cold, predatory.

  Before more could be said, the three Guardian appeared around Kevlar, forming a triangle of steel and killing intent.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  At the same time Serena reached the Maw, a streak of gold. She slammed into the titan’s forehead with an explosive flash. The earth lit like a second dawn.

  Castiel’s fury erupted first. “Shadowborn—where is our commander!? What did you do to him!?”

  Kevlar’s expression didn’t change. “Safe in the darkness. A valuable guest.”

  “Release him!” Emilia demanded.

  “And follow your orders?” Kevlar tilted his head mockingly. “Do you truly believe the three of you can defeat me?”

  A violet aura roared out—raw, oppressive, cracking the air.

  The guardians stiffened—then Kevlar abruptly cut it off, his power smothered to silence.

  He drew his twin blades in a slow, deliberate arc.

  A calm smile touched his lips.

  “For your courage… we’ll do this the old-fashioned way.”

  He disappear right before their eyes. Too fast to be seen even by their hybrid senses.

  A flurry of steel followed.

  Castiel barely parried the first strike—his arm shuddering as Kevlar’s blade tore past, splitting the air itself. Emilia dodged the second slash by a hair, the shockwave carving a scar into the earth behind her. Slavik attempted a counterattack, but Kevlar’s blade intercepted his in a blur, sparks cascading like falling stars.

  Every swing Kevlar unleashed carried impossible weight. A missed swing cleaved a trench through the battlefield. Another split the clouds overhead.

  The guardians quickly realized something horrifying—

  They were not fighting a human.

  They were surviving a natural disaster.

  None of them could even graze him.

  All they could do was parry, evade, and pray the next blow didn’t erase them.

  Serena struck relentlessly—her wings flashing like four blades of light, each impact ringing across the plains. She moved faster than thought, her spear descending with divine precision.

  The Maw didn’t budge.

  He blocked heavy strikes with his forearms, let others grind against his hide, and tanked through blows that should have caved mountains. When Serena attempted a full-force dive, the titan caught her spearhead in one hand and hurled her back with a quake-inducing shove.

  Her expression didn’t change—but her stance grew tighter, more desperate.

  Nothing she did made him step back even once.

  Their clash became a storm of gold and shadow above the field.

  He tried to converse with her using his telepathy.

  "Little one, your attack can't hurt me. Angel more powerful than you had tried in the past"

  Serena remained silent even in thought.

  "Not much of a talker aren't you? I just wonder since you are being control...maybe your soul may not be"

  "I must be crazy...trying to converse with an angel..." and before her could finish. It was then he heard her.

  Not thru words but from her mind.

  "Kevlar......Ca.......Callius"

  On the rear line, Draculius cleaved through another overconfident Vatican knight who wandered too near.

  “What a chaotic sight…” he muttered. “In all my centuries, this is a first.”

  Lilith allowed herself a thin smirk. “Well, Father, you never had titans walking around in your era.”

  “Hm. Fair.” His eyes darkened as he glanced at the cannon. Its hum was growing louder. “I only hope they finish this before that thing fires.”

  Lilith nodded. “Kevlar ordered us not to interfere until he signals. We must trust him.”

  “If it reaches critical,” Draculius murmured, “signal or not—I will act.”

  She didn’t argue.

  The cannon’s hum transformed—deepening, harmonizing, like a choir of voices layered atop one another. A hymn.

  Saint Fariel’s eyes gleamed.

  “My children! Rejoice! The holy relic sings—the cleansing light is ready!”

  The remaining knights and paladins raised their weapons, cheering through tears and exhaustion.

  Then the cannon convulsed.

  Magical pressure burst outward—alive, predatory.

  Instead of simply continue charging…

  it devoured.

  The tethered priests were drained in an instant—life, soul, mana—collapsed into dry husks without a sound.

  The cheering died in confusion.

  Shock rippled through even the hybrids.

  What… was that?

  they all thought.

  Only Fariel remained ecstatic.

  Even Serena noticed, staring at the abomination powering the cannon.

  The relic reached its final threshold.

  A sphere of blinding, writhing light swelled at its core, vibrating with a scream that wasn’t a sound but a feeling—raw, unholy, agonized.

  The ground shook.

  The world held its breath.

  And then—

  it fired.

  A colossal column of holy light—thick as a fortress tower—erupted from the cannon’s maw, lancing toward Kevlar, the three Guardians, and the titan Maw.

  Its light was not salvation.

  Its light was a scream.